


Nine Months, Two People, A Budding Relationship, and One Baby

by superchester



Series: Indiana Blues [4]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Dad Dean, Dean and Lisa have a baby!, Dean is a dad, F/M, Gen, One Night Stand, Pregnant Lisa, Will appear in 9 months, ben braeden - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-19
Updated: 2015-05-19
Packaged: 2018-03-31 06:39:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,545
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3968233
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/superchester/pseuds/superchester
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The first month of Lisa's pregnancy and how Dean Winchester got conned into morning yoga.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Nine Months, Two People, A Budding Relationship, and One Baby

Dean spends pretty much all of his free time reading pregnancy books. Granted, he doesn’t have much free time, but he’s kind of curious to know what Lisa’s going through, and they just aren’t comfortable enough around each other for him to just blurt out awkward questions like, “Are you feeling bloated?” or “Are you leaking a milky white discharge?” Actually, he probably wouldn’t even ask those questions if they were that comfortable around each other because A. ew, and B. Gross.

So he reads about it online or in books he had to psyche himself up to buy at the bookstore, and stores the information for whenever it might come in handy. Dean’s the kind of guy that likes to know what he’s dealing with so he can be prepared or whatever.

He also really wants to be able to talk to Lisa about this stuff and be apart of what’s going on. They aren’t dating, they’re barely friends, but they’re working on getting to know each other better and honestly? Lisa is really, really cool.

Dean actually likes her for her. She’s great at sex, but more than that, she’s fun to talk to, pretty, she listens and offers great advice without making fun of him, and she gets along great with Sam.

She’s also really busy.

The yoga studio she works at is open six days a week from 5am-6pm, and Lisa teaches three hour long classes on each of those days. They’re still having trouble getting their schedules synced, but they try to keep a regular Sunday night “date night” just in case they don’t see each other at all during the week.

Dean thinks it’s going kind of splendidly. So splendidly, in fact, that he’s kind of excited to go to Lisa’s tonight. It’s their third Sunday night, and instead of spending money on a restaurant for dinner, they’re going to eat at home. Dean’s really working hard to save as much as he can for the baby, and Lisa is too, so they’re going to have to start getting creative with the whole date night thing.

(However Dean does stop at the store to pick up vanilla bean ice cream. He read somewhere that some pregnant women get cravings for sweet stuff as early as the first month.)

By the time he parallel parks the Impala at the curb outside Lisa’s apartment building, he’s a little sweaty with anticipation. He can’t help it. Lisa’s the first person outside of his family he’s bothered spending any time with, and she’s really fucking awesome on top of it. Plus they’re having a baby. He’s practically bursting with nervous excitement when he thinks about the enormity of this. Regardless of how many books or websites or forums he reads, he is still incapable of comprehending his new reality.

Dean takes a deep breath and adjusts the rearview mirror so he can catch a glimpse of his reflection. The light from the street lamp is dim at best, but it’s good enough for him to fix his hair a little and swipe the sweat from his forehead. “Okay,” he tells himself. “You are a winsome, devilishly handsome dude. You got this.”

He flashes himself a smile for good fortune, and scoots himself out of the car. He tries to keep his walk to the entrance of Lisa’s building at a brisk walk but it’s probably more of a skipping action and damn it, alright, he’s a little overeager, so what? So what? Dean likes Lisa, Lisa likes him. They having a child together. (And Dean no longer feels faint when he thinks that.) Life is good. Not perfect, but good.

And fuck it, Dean will take good and run with it.

He takes the stairs two at a time shamelessly.

He catches his breath while he waits for Lisa to answer the door, and he can’t help the grin that spreads across his face when she does.

Has he mentioned that Lisa’s really pretty?

Well, she is. Especially in yellow. She’s wearing one of those jumper things that are shorts and shirt sewn together, and the entire thing is yellow with little red flowers all over it. She isn’t wearing any make up, and her hair is wet and tied in a knot at the top of her head, but Dean thinks this is the prettiest he’s seen her yet.

“Hey, you’re early!” Lisa smiles at him and steps aside to let him in. She tiptoes and he stoops so they can press their cheeks together in one of those weird cheek kissing greetings. Damn it, she even smells pretty.

“Yeah, I know,” Dean shrugs, “But I brought ice cream?”

Lisa laughs, (prettily), and takes the paper bag from Dean’s hands. “Well then, I can’t complain. I’ve had the most ridiculous urge to eat pie all day, so tonight we’re going to make some and I’m going to eat at least half of it.”

Sweet baby armadillos in tartar sauce, this woman is after his heart.

Dean follows her to the kitchen like a puppy. “Have I mentioned how much I love pie?”

They cook pasta and chicken with a wine sauce that Lisa shows Dean how to make. Dean’s pretty alright in the kitchen, but Lisa’s incredible, which she says is due to meal planning and keeping a healthy diet, but Dean’s inclined to believe Lisa’s just awesome at everything.

While the chicken simmers in the sauce, Lisa has Dean line a glass pie pan with store bought frozen pie crust and she scoops pasta onto their plates. They’re making apple pie, so it’s pretty simple. Open the can, dump it in, throw it in the oven, but Lisa adds cinnamon and brown sugar and a splash of vanilla extract which, Dean discovers, smells amazing but tastes like shit.  

“So how was your week?” Lisa asks, carefully distributing chicken and sauce on top of the pasta, she hands Dean his plate, and leads the way to the blanket she’s laid out on the wood floor beside the cushions she uses instead of chairs.

 

Lisa explained that a table and chairs were pretty much pointless in a studio loft apartment as tiny as hers, and Dean doesn’t care because it means he can sit close to her without being obvious.

“My week was full of work. Got to fix up a really sweet Chevy ‘66 at the garage though, and Sammy got a really good grade on his mid terms, so I took him to the movies.” Dean lowers himself gingerly to the floor, careful of the sauce on his plate. “What about you?”

Lisa sits cross legged with more grace in her movements than Dean could ever wish to have. “So-so. Morning sickness apparently isn’t limited to the morning. Sometimes I end up too nauseated to breathe in the middle of my classes.”

“I read about that,” Dean says before he’s able to stop himself. Lisa raises her eyebrows at him.

“You read about it?” Lisa’s eyes sparkle with humour.

Dean makes a face at her, “I just figured it might be good for me to, you know, know some stuff,” he shrugs and tries not to feel so embarrassed. (He fails.)

“Dean, that is…” Lisa shakes her head and gives him this look of wonderment that makes Dean’s face feel warm and his belly swoop. “Incredibly sweet.” She shakes her head at him. “You are something else, you know that? Not what I expected from a one night stand. Like, at all.”

They both laugh. Sometimes Dean forgets how they came to be in the first place. A freaking one night stand. Who the hell knew, right?

Lisa puts her empty plate down beside her, stretching her arms up over her head and yawning, “You know, probably the most annoying of all the weird things that have cropped up since I got knocked up has got to be how tired I am all of the time. Like, give me nausea and back pain, but don’t take away my morning yoga.”

Dean shovels the last stray pieces of pasta into his mouth and rises, knees creaking. “Hand me your plate?”

Lisa passes her plate into his waiting hand, “Thanks, Dean.”

“No problem. And honestly, maybe this will teach the importance of not rising with the sun.” He calls over his shoulder. He laughs when he hears Lisa’s scoff. “I will never understand your need to do unthinkable stretches at ass-o-clock every morning.”

Lisa pushes herself up from the floor, “That’s because you’ve never tried it. Check the pie, would you? I gotta pee like a racehorse.”

“Ew, I did not need that information.” Dean checks the pie.

“Well you got it!”

...Is she? Dean turns around. Yep, she is definitely talking to him through the bathroom door.

He hears the toilet flush and the sink run, then Lisa comes out smacking her thighs to dry them. “I always forget to put a freaking hand towel in there,” she says.

Dean can’t help himself, he reaches out and grabs her hand once she’s close enough. They stand there for a moment, then Dean realises he should probably do something, so he grabs the hand towel off the sink and dries her hands with it.

Lisa gives him a look, but she doesn’t say anything, for which he is eternally grateful.

They watch a few episodes of Firefly on Netflix, cuddled close on Lisa’s bed with her laptop between them and pie in their bellies before Dean realizes how late it’s gotten. He still has to drive home, and they both have work in the morning.

But… he kind of doesn’t want to move, let alone leave.

“You know,” Lisa murmurs, shifting closer into his side, she closes the laptop and pushes it out of the way, “You can always stay and find out why I wake up every morning at ass-o-clock to do yoga.”

Dean’s entire body prickles to life. Did she just…?

“Lisa, I don’t-” Is he saying no to sex? “It might not be a good idea to get, you know, with sleeping together and stuff, uh-”

Dean needs to seriously shut his mouth.

Lisa lifts her head from his shoulder, “Dean. I meant stay and actually sleep, and I’d do yoga with you in the morning.”

Oh. Oh.

Actually...kind of tempting.

“Lis… me and yoga don’t mix.”

She narrows her eyes at him, “Everyone can do yoga, and if you haven’t even tried it, how would you know?”

“I don’t have a toothbrush, or clothes, or anything.” Shit, is he actually considering this?

Lisa shakes her head. “Excuses. I have spare toothbrushes under the sink, and yoga can be done in-” she pulls his jeans away from his hips to peek beneath, (Dean does not squawk indignantly) “boxer briefs.”

Feeling strangely bold he wraps an arm around her shoulders and squeezes, dropping a kiss on the top of her head. “You’re crazy, you know that?”

She drapes and arm over his waist to hug back, looking up at him for her place on his chest, “I’m not crazy...I’m pregnant.”

“Oh my- seriously? You cannot use that at barely past one month, Lisa.”

She wriggles down underneath the covers, dragging him with her, “Oh yeah? I’m the one who’s gonna swell and ache and carry a bowling ball in my stomach only to push it out through my vagina, something, by the way, I’m not entirely sure is possible, I can do whatever I want.”

Dean forcibly holds back expressing his distaste, and allows her to prod and shove him into whatever position she wants him to be in. “Alright. Fine. You win.”

Lisa leans forward to grab her forgotten laptop and place it on the table beside her bed. “You’re darn right.” She snuggles right back into him, cold toes pressed into his shins, “Goodnight, Dean.”

Dean trails his fingers down her arm, “Night, Lisa.”

-

Dean was a fool to agree to this. Yoga is, quite literally, the most painfully intense work he has ever done, and honestly, not even watching Lisa’s body contort and stretch is worth this torture.

“And back to downward facing dog. Let’s stay here for five breaths, inhale…” Lisa’s takes an exaggerated inhale, then exhales loudly.

Dean’s arms are shaking like chicken legs, he forces himself not to hold his breath. Lisa rises from her down dog and places a hand on his back, correcting his posture, pushing him deeper into the pose. “Lis, I’m already dying.”

“Shhh, quiet your mind and let your body adjust.”

Dean is going to die on this stupid purple yoga mat and everyone will laugh at his funeral.

He pants and sweats and let’s Lisa guide his chest closer to his knees. “I’m never doing this again.”

She pulls at his ankles to spread his feet a little wider, “Shhh, breathe.”

She makes him hold the position for the full five breaths, then guides him gently onto his hands and knees.

“See? You did it.” Lisa returns to her mat, ignoring Dean’s whimpers. “Now we’ll do Cat/Cow, inhale arch your spine, lift your head and look up, exhale curl inwards, bring your chin towards your chest, sucking the abdominal muscles in closer to the spine, and again-”

She ends their hour of yoga with a position called “corpse pose” which is actually 100% accurate with how Dean’s body is feeling right now. He relaxes his muscles, attempts to “sink” into the floor as instructed, breathes normally, and literally knocks out.

He wakes, slowly to gentle shaking, and opens his eyes to see Lisa’s face hovering above his own. “Welcome back.” She smiles at him.

Dean feels like a melting marshmallow on a waterbed in a swaying hammock. “Did I fall asleep?”

Lisa massages his arms and shoulders in firm presses of her fingertips, “Yep. Just for a few minutes. Pretty normal side effect of a really good yoga practice.” She helps him sit up. “Just take it slow. Wiggle your toes, get the blood flowing, don’t stand up too quickly.”

Dean does as she says, “What time is it?”

 

Lisa checks her watch, “Just passed 6am. Time to go?” She supports him as he painstakingly lifts himself to his feet.

 

Stretching and yawning, Dean nods. He’s in nothing but his boxer briefs and his t-shirt and he probably stinks of sweat, but Lisa wraps her arms around his waist and hugs him, “Thanks for indulging me,” she says, and her head is at just the right height for Dean to lean down and place a kiss in her hair.

 

“I’d say anytime, but I might die.”

 

She pinches the soft skin at his hip for that one.”Go get dressed and get out of here.” She pulls away, and there’s a pause where they stare at each other, Dean can’t help but let his gaze flicker from her eyes to her lips.

 

Lisa tip toes, lifts her chin, and presses her lips to the corner of his mouth. Dean keeps completely still. “I’m gonna shower. Call me later?”

 

He nods.

 

She leaves him standing in her living room with his head in the clouds and his eyes full of hearts.

**  
** _What is she doing to him?_

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys, thank you for reading! Comments and Kudos are always appreciated! Seriously it makes all the difference in the world to know what you all might be thinking. I haven't beta'd this so let me know about any mistakes!
> 
> Also! I signed up for DCBB 2015 and I'm terrified so... any advice? 
> 
> You can find me on Twitter @conventionjunky I love talking to fellow fic reader/writers


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